Chrome Daydream
Chrome stars, jelly hearts and holographic colour. A nod to the glossy, optimistic graphics of the early web.
The notebook changes its cover every month. Each one takes its cues from a different corner of music, paper and internet culture. Explore the collection below.
Haunted Notebook is here through November 1. Coffee Shop Confessional takes over November 2.
Chrome stars, jelly hearts and holographic colour. A nod to the glossy, optimistic graphics of the early web.
Cassette ribbons, red-pen hearts and pink paper. For anyone who ever put too much thought into a mixtape.
Vines wind around the speakers and flowers take over the margins. Spring gets the volume knob.
Pixel ghosts, cherries and electric blue meet the notebook doodles. A little arcade cabinet in the margins.
The pink splashes, coffee ring and black doodles that started it, with the volume turned up. The notebook's home colours.
Peel-and-stick chaos: skulls, butterflies, hearts and neon lightning. Think of the back of your favourite battered laptop.
Torn tickets, halftone fragments and bright scraps. A cover that borrows the rough edges of a wall full of gig flyers.
Black ink, torn paper and acid-yellow sparks. A love letter to photocopied zines and the flyers you kept after the show.
Stars, speakers, tape and every loud colour at once. Back-to-school stationery with absolutely no restraint.
Moths, little ghosts and crimson ink creep through the black flourishes. The notebook has a late-night alter ego.
Coffee rings, headphones and warm paper. A cover for the long walk home and the track you play again when you get there.
Moons, moths and constellations spill across midnight-blue ink. The margins drift into space; the music keeps going.
1 min read
You know within ten seconds whether a track called There Is No Tomorrow is going to earn the title, and Perry Wayne mostly does. This is riddim-leaning dubstep, built on that triplet bounce where the bass seems to trip over its own feet on purpose, and he keeps it lean enough that the groove never clogs up. The lead sound is a nasty, talkative growl that answers itself across the bar, more conversation than assault. He is working inside a well-worn template here, and the fun is entirely in how twitchy he keeps it, nudging the pattern so it stays...
1 min read
1 min read
Same chair. Same hands. New number on the wall. Twelve frames behind him. Twelve identical poses. Hands pressed together, camera rolling, face arranged into the exact expression that focus groups say reads as contrite. Number thirteen is live and it looks like the rest because at some point the apology became the content. The wall is the career retrospective. The camera on the tripod hasn’t moved because why would it. He found the angle that works and he will use it until the audience stops watching, which they won’t, because the cycle is the product now. Film it, frame it,...
1 min read
What happens when three producers this big get in a room: do you get the best of each, or the cautious average of all three? Give You Love lands closer to the average. It is emotional-dubstep-by-numbers, a soaring wounded vocal in the breakdown and then a drop engineered by Excision to relocate your sinuses, both halves polished to a high shine. The problem is I have heard this exact arc a hundred times, and nothing here makes the hundred-and-first feel necessary. SLANDER’s melodic streak and Excision’s brute force should collide into something strange, and instead they just politely take turns,...
1 min read
1 min read
How many times can a drop be built around the phrase go nuts before the law of diminishing returns kicks the door in? Typhon is out here testing it. Go Nuts is festival trap at its most functional, a vocal chant chopped into the build, a tension riser you have heard on a thousand uploads, and a drop that delivers exactly the dopamine the title promises and not a milligram more. It is effective. It is also almost aggressively anonymous, the sort of track that does its damage in a festival set and evaporates the second the next one starts....
1 min read
Mississippi is sending Scott Colom to the Senate. First Black man to hold the seat since Reconstruction. One hundred and fifty years. That’s how long it took, in a state where the seat was kept warm by a woman who thought “public hanging” was a punchline. Cindy Hyde-Smith survived that comment in 2018 because the alternative was losing the seat. The party swallowed it and the voters shrugged, so she kept her job for eight more years. Now she’s out, replaced by a district attorney from Columbus who won by about three thousand votes while the president’s DOJ was busy...
1 min read
1 min read
1 min read
The first four notes give it away instantly: this is Billie Eilish’s Ocean Eyes rebuilt as a melodic dubstep weepie, with Elle Vee carrying a topline that everyone within earshot already knows by heart. WHOiSEE and ARKIIN wrap it in the full festival-melodic treatment, a breakdown that swells like a held breath and a drop made of those gleaming detuned saws that have become the default house style for this whole corner. It is polished and pretty, and it never once takes a risk. Elle Vee sings it well, but the arrangement does nothing the original melody was not already...
Weekly. We hate Coldplay, not your inbox.
Done. Check your email to confirm.
One email a week. Unsubscribe whenever. No spam, no tracking pixels in the content.